


No One's Here to Sleep

by orphan_account



Category: Inception (2010), Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Inception, And Eggsy is recruited for a secret mission as an architect, Dreamsharing, Espionage, Gen, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Kingsmen are master extractors, can't write Eggsy's accent cause I'm 100000x american
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:42:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3563345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't very often someone walked into a pub and asked, "Can you make a maze that would take me more than a minute to solve?" Then again, it also wasn't very often that someone so utterly <i> gorgeous </i> walked into a pub and asked Eggsy <i> anything</i>, so he wasn't about to cock this up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hope there aren't too many mistakes - don't have a beta yet.

Hypothetically, it shouldn't have been that difficult to sneak into the mind of a mild-mannered physics professor and extract the necessary information. The vault was easy enough for Harry to find – hidden behind a bookcase after removing the only book in the entire room (possibly the whole mansion) that did not have a mismatched disarrangement of letters for a title. The bookcase moved aside, revealing a panel with a glowing keypad – right where Lancelot arranged it to be.

Now all that was left was for Lancelot to keep Arnold busy with meaningless conversation and try to coax the password out of him.

“So, Professor, when’s your birthday again?” Lancelot asked, his voice echoing in Harry’s earpiece.

“Already tried that,” Harry sighed. “What about something important to him, something...” he quickly scanned the study, trying to find any hints lying on the walls. Merlin had mentioned that Arnold’s work was a very important aspect of his life, but whether that meant when he earned his doctorate or when he first began teaching, he hadn't a clue.

Harry tuned back into Lancelot’s conversation just in time, as Arnold said, “Of course, then I wouldn't have met Lovelock or Margulis. Why, their work changed the way the entire world views climate change – without them, we’d still be dumping thousands of tons of waste into the ocean and the atmosphere! Harming our earth like the parasites we are!"

“Hmm, yes,” Lancelot replied, trying to sound as charming as possible. “When was their study published again?”

“February 6th, 1975,” Arnold said. “I remember it like it was yesterday…”

“That must be it,” Harry said, carefully punching the date into the keypad. There was a small moment in which he feared he may have typed in the wrong password before there was a satisfied beeping noise and the small door opened, revealing several papers and folders. He quickly grabbed the top one and began skimming through the pages, a light frown settling on his face. “Shit.”

“What is it?” Lancelot asked once Arnold had moved on, talking to projections that seemed infinitely more eager to talk to him.

“It’s not here.”

“What do you mean it’s not there?”

“The pertinent information has been blacked out in these files, which means –“ The door creaked open and Harry spun around to find several suited men rush in, guns out and trained on him. He barely made it to the table and ducked down, avoiding a bullet in the shoulder.

Lancelot swore and Harry could hear gunshots in the distance as he reached for the gun holstered on his hip. “I’ll try to keep them off of you, but you’ll have to hurry – the music ought to start any moment now and Arnold must be headed your way to check up on the vault.”

Harry lifted his head above the table and fired three shots in rapid succession, only missing one target as he ran out of the room. He quickly stood up and barricaded the door, hurrying back to the vault and pulling out more files. “I thought he wasn't supposed to be trained.”

“Must've been during the kidnapping. I’ll be sure to mention it to Merlin,” Lancelot said, bangs and shouts coming from his end. “Found anything yet?”

“No, it’s practically wiped clean,” Harry said. On almost every page, any information that could be even remotely helpful, all of it blacked out or erased. He barely managed to contain his groan of frustration as a faint melody started, growing louder with each passing second. “We’re going to have to consider this level a failure. Nothing in here is usable,” he shoved the papers in and closed the vault.

“For such rushed training, these projections are surprisingly good shots,” Lancelot commented. “I almost got nicked in the – _gah!_ ”

“Lancelot?” Harry frowned. No response. He let out a sigh and perched himself near the window, taking a deep breath before jumping down.

* * *

 

Harry let out a gasp as he woke, rubbing his eyes and sitting up as he watched Merlin and Lancelot packing away the PASIV device on the dining table. He looked around, remembering where they were – Arnold’s dining room. “How much longer until he wakes up?” he asked, straightening his suit.

“Ninety seconds,” Merlin replied as he carefully adjusted Arnold into a sitting position, propping his elbow up and resting his cheek on his fist. “There we go,” he hummed and slid back into his seat.

Harry cleared his throat and frowned in distaste when he looked down at his plate. “I forgot we were going to be eating this disgusting stew.”

“Only the best for you, my dear,” Merlin hummed. “Besides, it’s his favorite,” he gestured to Arnold. “Obviously he’d serve it.”

“I wish he had better taste,” Harry mumbled, clearing his throat again when Arnold began to stir. “Um, Professor? Professor Arnold?”

“Hmmm?” he replied, letting out a wide yawn. “Apologies. I was up all night grading papers.”

“It’s no trouble,” Harry said with a smile. “We were discussing the possibility of a grant in exchange for further research into global warming?”

“Oh, yes, I remember now,” Arnold nodded. “Well, gentlemen, I’m sorry to tell you but I can’t accept your grant.”

Harry raised a brow. “Oh, really? Why ever not?”

“Well, I already got a grant,” Arnold said. “From Mr. Richmond Valentine.”

Before any questions could be asked, there was a loud crash as the door broke down. Several suited men, eerily similar to the ones from the recent dream, marched forward, guns cocked and ready to fire. Merlin quickly ducked over to Arnold and shoved him down as Lancelot and Harry quickly pulled out guns, shooting down the intruders.

“How the _heck_ is this man trained?” Merlin shouted over the gunfire. “He’s not supposed to be trained!”

“We’ll have time for this argument when we wake up,” Harry said. He quickly walked over to Merlin, eyeing Arnold as he cowered behind the chair. “How long until the next kick?”

“Not very long,” Merlin said, standing up. “We’ll have to consider this a failure. Come on, shoot me.”

Harry ignored him, crouching down to Arnold. “Professor…”

“Galahad, you said he doesn't know anything!” Lancelot shouted from the doorway, firing shots at the oncoming projections. “There’s no point in interrogating him further!”

Harry grabbed Arnold by his collar, staring him down. He was trembling beneath him, eyes wide and sweat dripping down his face. “I – I really don’t know –“

“What do you remember about your kidnapping?” Harry asked calmly.

“I – I have no idea what you’re –“

“Just tell me what you know.”

There was a loud bang from the door. “Lancelot’s been shot, Harry, we only have a few seconds until – “

Harry gripped the collar tighter. “Just tell me what you – “

* * *

 

Harry blinked his eyes open, quickly sitting up. The train was still moving, scenery whizzing past the window. Arnold sat in front of him, leaning his head against the window with a soft snore.

“I almost had it,” Harry mumbled softly. “I could've gotten it.”

“Lancelot said there was nothing in the vault,” Merlin said, shoving the PASIV back into the briefcase. “Speaking of whom…” He knocked Lancelot’s head, waiting for him to awaken from his slumber. His head lolled back, a small trail of drool escaping through the corner of his lips.

“What’s wrong with him?” Harry asked.

“We’ll check him back at the safe house,” Merlin said. “Can you carry him?”

Harry nodded, lifting Lancelot up and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Lancelot’s head moved from side to side as he was moved out of the compartment, his eyes remaining tightly shut.

It was a quick cab ride once they were out of the station, with only a few quick words about how drunk their friend had gotten to dismiss the prying eyes of the public. They arrived at the small safe house before dark, and Harry quickly sat Lancelot down on the couch. “Shall we try a kick?”

“The water one will be easy,” Merlin said. He headed to the kitchen and returned with a small bucket filled to the brim with water. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Harry carefully grabbed the back of Lancelot’s head and shoved it into the bucket, pulling it back a few moments later. Water dripped down his head, soaking his suit and the back of the sofa. He still did not wake.

“This is not good,” Merlin mumbled. “Get the PASIV out and set it for two minutes.”

Harry quickly obliged, shoving the bucket out of the way and setting up the briefcase as Merlin rolled up Lancelot’s sleeve and carefully inserted the IV line. He accepted the one from Harry and pulled up a chair, leaning back and closing his eyes.

Harry watched in anticipation and when Merlin opened his eyes seconds later, he knew something was wrong.

“He wasn’t there,” Merlin said as he ripped the IV out. “I was in my own dream.”

“How wasn't he there?” Harry frowned. “He was connected – you were supposed to be in _his_ dream.”

“I know that,” Merlin snapped. He sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Something must've happened in the dream.”

“Arnold wasn't supposed to be trained,” Harry said. “And yet his subconscious came at us with guns and precise shooting. Not to mention the fact that his vault was clear.”

“My information can’t have been wrong,” Merlin said. “I got it from our very own database. Which means…”

“There’s a leak in our group,” Harry finished.

There was a heavy silence as both men stared at each other, Harry sitting beside Lancelot with a heavy frown settled on his face and Merlin leaning forward in his chair, concentrating hard.

“Well, I can say for certain it’s not anyone in this room,” Harry finally said.

“I agree,” Merlin said. “But there’s someone in our ranks who doesn't want us to discover why these men are being kidnapped – well, is it really kidnapping if you’re being returned.”

“I think so,” Harry said. He stood up and headed for the bar (each safe house was fully stocked, of course) and poured himself a drink. “What should we do about Lancelot? We've lost one of our best architects. And if we’re going into another dream, we’ll need a proper team. One we can trust.”

“There are a lot of young, bright minds out there,” Merlin said. “I’ll look for a forger and you can look for an architect.”

“They’re probably scattered across the globe, impossible to locate,” Harry sighed, taking a deep sip. “How on earth will I find even _one_ potential candidate?”

Merlin shrugged. “Pub, maybe?”

"Oh, yes, of course," Harry said. "Just step right in, look to the first person I see, and ask 'can you make me a maze that takes more than a minute to solve?' It'll just be perfect."


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the positive response so far ~~now stop me from starting a Time Traveler's Wife AU please~~

It wasn't very often someone walked into a pub and asked, "Can you make a maze that would take me more than a minute to solve?" Then again, it also wasn't very often that someone so utterly _gorgeous_ walked into a pub and asked Eggsy _anything_ , so he wasn't about to cock this up.

He never intended to be at the pub that night, but Mum gave him a look that meant she wanted to be left alone, and since his little baby sister was asleep with JB, Eggsy decided to simply head out.

Mum was coming home with that look more often – not since Dad’s death three years ago had he seen it. It might’ve been because of money problems, but Eggsy suspected it was Dean. Mum broke up with him a month ago, but that didn’t stop him or his goons from lurking around the flat, watching, waiting.

“Bloody bastard,” Eggsy mumbled to himself, quietly drinking. “Ought to bash his head in. Put an end to this.”

Luckily, the mysterious man arrived a few moments after Eggsy was done talking to himself, strolling up to Eggsy’s table and sitting opposite of him.

Eggsy shook his head, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, a maze? Like, the kind in those puzzle books? The ones that go like this?” He traced a path in the air, eyebrows raised.

The man nodded as he waved over at the bartender, ordering a pint. “Yes, exactly. You’ll have two minutes to complete it and only one chance to make it right.”

“ _One_ chance?” Eggsy frowned. “That’s a little unfair, don’t you think?”

“There are other patrons in this establishment, aren’t there?” the man replied. “I’m also on a rather tight schedule, you see.”

“Okay, so one unsolvable maze in two minutes,” Eggsy nodded. “Sounds like a piece of cake.”

“I never said it had to be unsolvable, it just has to take more than a minute to solve,” the man said. He smiled as his drink arrived and took a deep sip after he paid. “Are you interested?”

“Course I’m interested,” Eggsy replied. He leaned back and stretched as the man produced a pen and pad from inside his coat, nimble fingers ripping out a page and sliding it across the table. He pulled his sleeves and stared at his watch.

“Your time starts… now.”

Eggsy spent the first fifteen seconds in a mild panic as he realized that he actually had no idea how to make an unsolvable maze (the man looked very, _very_ smart – he could probably solve anything in under a minute, with that cool, calculating, sexy – no, stop, _focus_!). He spent thirty seconds sketching out a rough maze, before scratching it out entirely. It was too simple, too easy. Everything was too easy – you just had to follow the entrance and –

Eggsy’s eyes widened and he smirked a little, quickly drawing a closed circle with a simple maze inside. He barely finished making the final few embellishments when the man called time and took the paper, examining it carefully. Eggsy shifted anxiously and drained his glass. Was making a maze with no entrance technically cheating?

After a moment, the man asked, “What’s your name?”

“Eggsy,” he said.

“Well, Eggsy,” he put the paper down and shot him a pleasant (and beautiful) smile, “I must say, no one else thought to make the maze in such a… unique fashion.”

“Well, that’s me,” Eggsy let out a light chuckle. “Unique.”

The man’s hand disappeared inside his coat once again, pulling out a small white card. “I would appreciate it if you contacted me tomorrow. There is a business proposition I would like to make.”

Business proposition. Business meant money and money meant a better life for Mum and his sister.

“I’ll – I’ll think about it,” Eggsy said as he took the card, trying not to seem too pleased. “Right, well, I guess I’ll see you later -” he quickly glanced at the card, “- Mr. Hart?”

“Harry is just fine,” he said, standing up and pushing his chair forward. “I hope to hear from you soon, Eggsy.”

Eggsy couldn’t help but watch as the man walked away, umbrella under his arm with his perfectly fitted suit. He looked back at the card and ran his thumb over the numbers. “What sort of job needs you to make _mazes_?”

* * *

Harry arrived back at the hotel room only a few minutes later, quickly calling Merlin. “I found someone,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out the small pin and ran his thumb over the back, satisfied when he felt the engraving.

“Yeah, I was watching on the screen,” Merlin said. “Eggsy is a funny name.”

“It’s probably a nickname,” Harry rolled his eyes. “You’ve run a background check on him, then?” He pulled off the coat and set the phone on the table, sitting down in bed and untying his shoes.

“Yeah, I have,” Merlin said. He hesitated a moment. “Harry… his full name is Gary Unwin.”

Harry froze, his throat catching for a moment. “Is it the same Unwin?”

“Yeah,” Merlin sighed. “I don’t think he’ll know you but the mother might have some reservations. You’ll be prepared for that, yeah?”

“Yes, of course,” Harry replied absently. Unwin. _Lee_ Unwin – his biggest regret. He took a deep breath and tried to change the subject. “Have you found a forger yet?”

“As a matter of fact, Percival here was just telling me about this young woman he knows who shows great promise.”

“Percival? Weren’t we going to keep this operation between the two of us?”

“I have a feeling that Percival isn’t the leak we’re looking for,” Merlin said, “unless his twelve-hour vigil at Lancelot’s bedside in the infirmary is merely an act. I don’t think even _I_ can pull that off.”

“Oh?” Harry hummed. “Do you think they were –”

“We weren’t!” came an indignant cry from somewhere on the other end of the call. Merlin let out a light chuckle. “As you can see, he _says_ they weren’t.”

“Well, it’ll be useful to have another chemist on our side,” Harry said with a slight smile. “Speaking of Lancelot, is there any news on his situation?”

“It appears he’s in Limbo, but it’s impossible to try and pull him out. So far, none of the sedatives we have seem to be working,” Merlin said. “I did some more research on this Valentine character, however. He’s this billionaire philanthropist – big on the environment. Apparently, he’s been meeting with some very rich and very influential people.”

“I suspect there’s some ulterior motive to this,” Harry said, lying down and letting his eyes drift shut.

“I’m sure there is,” Merlin replied. “We’ll send our future forger on it once she – oh, that’s not good.”

Harry’s eyes fluttered open. “What is it?”

“I think there’s some problem happening with your architect. You’re going to want to hear this.”


	3. Chapter Two

Eggsy headed home after his strange encounter with Mr. Hart –  _Harry_  – at the pub, eager to tell his mum all about this mysterious opportunity when his phone suddenly rang. He raised a brow as he picked up. “Hello?”

“Eggsy, where the hell are you?” Jamal asked, sounding worried.

“I’m walking back home. Why?”

“Ryan overheard some of Dean’s goons talking about how he was going to go over to your mum’s and try to win her back. Except they didn’t mean ‘win’ her back – more like ‘forcibly take’ her back.”

“Shit,” Eggsy swore, starting to run down the street. “Shit, shit,  _shit_.”

“Just get your mum out of there, Eggsy,” Jamal instructed as calmly as possible. “Head over to my place, alright? Just  _hurry_.”

Eggsy grunted and hung up, quickly running up the stairs and struggling to find his keys. He slammed the door open. “Mum?”

“Eggsy?” Michelle replied, standing up. Daisy was in her arms, giggling softly when she noticed her older brother. “Why’re you so out of breath? Did – did you get into a fight?”

“There’s no time to explain,” Eggsy headed for her bedroom and grabbed a bag from under the bed, stuffing everything he could reach inside.

He abandoned his efforts halfway through and quickly looked out the window, swearing again. Dean was already here, getting out of his goon's car.

"Eggsy, not in front of the baby," Michelle said, gently rocking Daisy. "Just tell me what's going on."

"Mum, listen to me," Eggsy handed her the half - packed bag, "I need you to leave through the fire escape and head over to Jamal's. Just... just lie low for a bit. I'll be there as soon as I can. Okay?"

When Michelle didn't reply, Eggsy bit his lip and gently grabbed her shoulders. "Mum, please. Listen to me."

His mother took a deep breath and finally nodded. "Al- alright," she said quietly. She pressed a kiss to Eggsy’s head. "You... you be okay, alright? Don't get yourself hurt."

Eggsy licked his lips and nodded, kissing Daisy's cheek. "I'll be fine," he lied. "Just go."

They'd barely made it out of the flat when the door burst off its hinges and Dean barged in. Eggsy could practically smell the alcohol on his breath from what might've been a world away.

"Where is she, you little bastard?" Dean swore, marching forward and grabbing Eggsy by the collar.

"I - I don't know," Eggsy stammered, suddenly panicked. Thank god he got them out of here. Thank god.

Dean moved in fast and slammed Eggsy against the dresser while punching him in the face. "I said, where is she?"

"I don't - I don't know!" Eggsy repeated. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, his phone began to vibrate loudly. Unusually loudly. Actually, he thought he'd dropped it in the bag he'd packed for Mum. So what was -

Dean kept one hand on Eggsy’s neck and used the other to pull out whatever was vibrating. "What the fuck is this?" he asked, shoving it into Eggsy’s face.

It was Harry’s card. Except, instead of his name and number, it only had three words: Hold your breath.

He quickly took a deep breath just as a strange fog – gas? – escaped from the card, filling the air between him and Dean. Dean’s eyes rolled backward as he stumbled before falling over, hitting the ground with a dull thud and dropping both Eggsy and the card.

Once the gas had dissipated, Eggsy quickly scrambled up and took a deep breath, frowning as he grabbed the card. “What the hell was that?” he mumbled to himself.

The letters on the card had changed again, now reading an address to… somewhere. Eggsy had no idea where, but it would be much better than here with Dean. He quickly got up and headed to the door, but suddenly stopped in his tracks. He went to his bedroom instead and grabbed his father’s medal before leaving.

* * *

A tailor shop.

The bloody card led him to a  _tailor shop_. Out of all the places, a bleeding  _tailor shop_  – how the hell did tailors decide that they needed to make crazy gas-emitting business cards?

Eggsy got out of the cab and was headed for the shop when someone gently grabbed his arm. “Not through here,” Harry whispered in his ear, moving into a nearby alley.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Eggsy mumbled sarcastically, trying not to think about where they were or how close Harry was to him. “Was that you typing messages on the card?”

“Not exactly,” Harry replied. “Through here.” He opened a side door and gently nudged Eggsy inside, closing the door behind them and quickly pulling him along through the corridor.

“Why couldn’t we just use the front entrance?” Eggsy asked. “It’s just  _right there_ , you know. Probably less of a tight squeeze.” Not that he really minded, but…

Harry didn’t respond, leading him into a strange white room with what looked like a giant tube against the wall. Eggsy raised a brow and watched as Harry carefully opened the tube to reveal a little compartment. “In here,” he said.

“If I get in, will you explain what’s going on here?” Eggsy asked, crossing his arms to make himself look more intimidating and demanding.

“Yes, of course,” Harry said. “We have to get out of here first.”

Eggsy hesitated a moment before following Harry inside, sitting down opposite him. “Right, so where’re we going?”

“You’ll see in about… one minute,” Harry replied. He pulled his sleeve down, looking at his watch as the door close, and suddenly the compartment began to speed down the tube like some sort of demented roller coaster. It stopped abruptly, too fast for Eggsy to react to what just happened, before the doors opened again and Harry stepped out, helping him to his feet. They entered a spacious room and Eggsy stared out the large window, fascinated by the giant bunker and all the exciting things being showcased when Harry grabbed his arm again.

“We’ll have time for admiration later, Eggsy,” he said, practically dragging him away.

“Oh my god,” Eggsy said, trying to get another glimpse through the glass. “What kind of tailor are you?”

Harry shushed him and moved through the corridors, constantly on the lookout until finally he opened a door and let out a sigh. “I’ve brought him,” he announced to the man in the room, who was sitting on what looked like a hospital bed and typing on a tablet.

“Excellent,” he said. “Did you fill him in yet?”

“No, Arthur was in the shop with Gawain,” Harry sighed. “I had to bring him in through the back.”

“Well, at least he’s safe and sound now,” he said, looking over at Eggsy and holding out his hand. “Merlin. Nice to meet you, Eggsy.”

Eggsy raised a brow. “Harry told you about me?”

“He did,” Merlin nodded. “But there were some things I discovered without his help – like how your full name is Gary Unwin and your mother is currently staying with your friend because her ex-boyfriend tried to attack her – Dean, isn’t it?”

Eggsy blinked, a mixture of confusion, panic, and more than a little anger running through him. “How the hell - ?”

“The card was to ensure no one would try to attack you in case someone discovered what we were doing,” Merlin said, resuming his typing. “Harry can take over from here with the explanation.”

Eggsy spun around, frowning heavily as Harry took a deep breath. “Eggsy, please allow me to first explain who we are and what we do, before I go into why we need you.”

“Alright, fine,” Eggsy said, crossing his arms again. “But if I don’t like what you have to say, then I’m leaving. Sound good?”

“Of course,” Harry said. “I wouldn’t want to force you into this. He took another deep breath before beginning to speak. “We are the Kingsmen, a secret organisation without government oversight in order to conduct operations without the chains of bureaucracy. Some may go as far as to say we are the new knights.”

“Alright,” Eggsy said, nodding along. “So what’s this got to do with me?”

“I’m getting to that,” Harry said. “Normally, we do, shall we say, the ‘usual spy stuff’ – gaining intelligence on terrorist organisations, stopping assassination plots, executing our own assassinations, etcetera. But there has been a new development in the world that has required us to expand our operations.” He paused for a moment. “Have you ever heard of something called dream sharing?”

Eggsy frowned and shook his head. “No, what’s that?”

Before Harry could reply, the door opened. “Merlin, we’ve been calling you for hours, the recruits are all ready and -” The man’s eyes fell on Eggsy and he narrowed his eyes. “Who is this?”

“Me?” Eggsy pointed to himself. “Oh, I’m -”

“He’s my intern,” Merlin finished smoothly. He slid off the bed and tucked the tablet under his arm. “I’m just teaching him the ropes, introducing him to some of the Knights. He’s not a threat.”

“I should think not,” Arthur said, all but sneering at Eggsy before his attention returned to Merlin. “Come on, the new Lancelot candidates await.”

Eggsy turned back to Harry once the door was closed. “Who was that piece of work?”

“Arthur,” Harry sighed. “Our leader. He doesn’t take kindly to people who aren’t very…”

“Posh?” Eggsy suggested, before shaking his head. “Am I  _really_ going to be that guy’s intern? Is that why I’m here?”

“Of course not,” Harry said. “If that were the case, we would’ve lead you in through the front door. No, you’re going to be helping us with a mission.”

“A mission, yeah?” Eggsy said. “One that has to do with this dream sharing stuff? What is that, anyway?”

The corner of Harry’s lips curled. “It’d be best if I showed you. Sit down,” he gestured to the bed.

Eggsy sat down as Harry pulled up a chair and pulled out a briefcase from under the bed. “Close your eyes,” Harry instructed, rolling up Eggsy’s sleeve.

“What’re you doing?” Eggsy asked, willing his mind to steer clear of certain dirty thoughts.

“You’ll see in a moment,” Harry said, and Eggsy could hear the smirk in his voice before his thoughts were blank and his mind was darkness.

 

 


	4. Chapter Three

“Eggsy? You even listening?”

Eggsy quickly blinked his eyes, looking over at whoever was talking to him. “Sorry, what?”

“You falling asleep there?” Jamal laughed. “I was asking you how your new job was going.”

“Oh, right,” Eggsy nodded, still slightly in a haze. He grabbed his drink and took a short sip. “It’s been going alright, working at a tailor shop. You meet some interesting people, learn some interesting things.”

As Eggsy racked his brain for some interesting story to tell, Ryan let out a slight chuckle, looking behind Eggsy. “I think that guy’s checking you out.”

It took all of Eggsy’s strength not to spit out his drink and turn a bright shade. He cleared his throat and shook his head. “I doubt he’s looking at _me_ – maybe someone else nearby?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s you he’s looking at,” Ryan said. “Turn around and see for yourself.”

Eggsy did so, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. _Harry fucking Hart_ was leaning against the bar, legs folded and pressed against the stool as he brought the glass to his lips. He caught Eggsy’s eye and gave him a smile.

He quickly turned back to Ryan and Jamal, his face heating up. “That’s – that’s my boss,” he managed to stammer out once he felt he could talk again.

Ryan and Jamal exchanged a look before letting out howls of laughter, wiping the tears of mirth from their eyes. “Are you _serious_?” Jamal asked. “That’s your _boss_?”

“I’d say you hit the jackpot, Eggsy,” Ryan smirked. “He’s quite the looker.”

“Don’t talk about him that way,” Eggsy huffed, trying to ignore the swell of possessiveness in his chest. He turned around to look back at Harry, who was now speaking with the bartender. “I’m… I’m gonna go see what he wants.” He drained his glass and stood up, confidently walking up to Harry and sitting down beside him.

“Eggsy,” Harry hummed. “What a lovely surprise.”

“I, um,” Eggsy quickly cleared his throat. “H-hi, Harry. What’re you… what’re you doing here?”

“I’m here enjoying a nice pint of Guinness,” Harry said, gesturing to his glass. “What about you?”

“Oh, I was just out drinking with my mates,” Eggsy looked back to see whether or not Ryan and Jamal were giggling conspiratorially to themselves, but it turned out they left for him to have some “alone time” with his boss. The bastards.

The corner of Harry’s mouth quirked as he took another sip. “Were you all out for some specific purpose?”

“Yeah, we were…” Eggsy trailed off. Why _were_ they out drinking? Was it because Eggsy hadn’t seen them in ages? Or because they were celebrating something? “We were… I dunno. Just… out, I guess.”

Harry nodded slowly. “I see. Did you come here right after work?”

 “No, I… I…” Eggsy blinked, a frown settling on his face. How exactly _did_ he get here? He probably went home first, right? To see Daisy and Mum? Or did he come straight here after work? How _long_ had he been in the pub?

“Eggsy,” Harry said, jerking him from his thoughts, “could you tell me exactly how you arrived at this pub?”

Eggsy opened his mouth and closed it, unable to respond. He cleared his thought again and ran a hand through his hair. “I… I have no idea…”

“Well, that’s understandable,” Harry hummed. “You’re dreaming.”

There was a small, silent moment before Eggsy forced out a laugh. “Yeah, right, of course,” he said sarcastically.

“I’m being serious,” Harry said as he tried getting the bartender’s attention. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Um, well…” Eggsy scrunched his forehead, forcing himself to think. “Well… we were in that infirmary, and you said – you said you were going to show me… dream sharing…” Suddenly, everything shifted into place in Eggsy’s mind and he turned to Harry, mouth agape with incredulity.

Harry smiled pleasantly at him. “Figured it out, haven’t you?”

“Oh my god,” Eggsy mumbled to himself. “Oh my god, I’m still in the infirmary, aren’t I? I’m… I’m dreaming.” He furrowed his brow and looked up. “But you’re here too.”

“It’s called dream _sharing_ , Eggsy, of course I’m here,” Harry said. He stood up and straightened his suit, heading for the door.

Eggsy quickly stood up and ran after him, hurrying to catch up. “Hang on, so I’m asleep and you’re in my dream?”

“Yes, basically,” Harry said as he slowed down to let Eggsy fall into step beside him. “It would be easier to do it that way, rather than have you in my dream.”

“And you got my mates here, too?” Eggsy raised a brow.

“No, they were just projections,” Harry said. “Everyone around us is. The couple across the street, the people in these shops – all of them are simply manifestations of my subconscious. I saw some video footage of your friends a few moments ago, to get a general understanding of them.”

“Well, you did a pretty good job of it,” Eggsy said, looking around. Everything looked _exactly_ like it did in real life. All the shops were the same, the broken streetlamp was the same, even the smell of the dirty alleys was the same. “This is… incredibly detailed.”

“Yes, it’s supposed to be,” Harry nodded. “The point of a dream is to make it as detailed as possible so the person whose subconscious is controlling the dream you are in, also known as the subject, will not realize that -” He stopped mid-sentence, staring at the flakes of snow falling from the sky.

“I thought it was a bit warm,” Eggsy admitted sheepishly when Harry gave him a stern look. “What, it’s my dream. Can’t I control things in my own dream?”

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Yes, this is your dream but had you let me finish, you would’ve known that if the dream is changed too drastically, too unrealistically, the projections of the subject will start hunting down the dreamer. You need to understand this.”

Eggsy was barely listening, looking around and grinning to himself. If he could change the weather on a whim, what other things could he do? He walked ahead of Harry as he talked and imagined an ice cream shop between two of the buildings. Suddenly, the buildings moved aside and a small shop materialized between them.

“Oh, that is awesome,” Eggsy laughed. “What kind of ice cream do you like, Harry? My treat.”

“Eggsy, you cannot simply create buildings out of thin air,” Harry said, trying to pull him away from the area. Already, projections were beginning to eye Eggsy, glaring at him menacingly. “It’s dangerous.”

“How dangerous can it be? My own mind won’t try to hurt me,” Eggsy insisted. He walked up to the shop and frowned when one of the employees locked the door and stared at him. “Hey, why isn’t he letting me in?”

“They’re highly suspicious of you,” Harry said, looking more and more nervous as the seconds passed. “I myself may be an amicable man, but my mind must be very… aggressive, to say the least. You can start experimenting in dreams once you’re the subject, but you must behave in my mind.

“I’ve been trying to explain this to you – the subject populates the dream, and the dreamer maintains the dream space.” Harry gestured Eggsy along, leading him away from the shop and back to the streets.

Eggsy looked behind them and frowned. “Why’re they following us?”

“They’re looking for the dreamer,” Harry said, pulling Eggsy close and walking a bit faster. “Change too much in the dream and the subject begins to realize there is someone else here. The projections then hunt the dreamer down and kill him, thus ending the dream.”

“Kill him?” Eggsy repeated. “Does it hurt?”

Harry didn’t respond, leading him down a pathway and swearing when he saw projections come in from the other end. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbled quietly. He tried to double back but more projections arrived, trapping the two men in the alley.

Eggsy felt himself ripped from Harry’s side and pulled into the crowd, people grabbing at his arms and legs, holding him in place. He struggled, trying to escape. “Harry!”

Harry tried to push past the wall of projections separating him from Eggsy, but he was only pushed away and pinned against the wall.

Eggsy tried shouting again, but the words died at his lips as a man ran forward, his face covered in a black mask and his hands wrapped around a small knife. He lunged forward and Eggsy felt the knife pierce his skin, sliding inwards until –

* * *

Eggsy gasped as he woke, panting and coughing. He was dying, he was dying. He’d just been stabbed. HE was bleeding, oh god, it _hurt_.

“It’s alright,” said a deep, calming voice. He moved forward and patted Eggsy gently on the back. “Take a deep breath.”

Eggsy willed his heartrate to go down, following the man’s instructions and forcing himself to relax. “I… he… someone just – just _stabbed_ me…”

“Ah,” he said, nodding slowly. He handed Eggsy the glass of water. “You must’ve been messing around in the dream. It’s not a good idea to do that, especially in the mind of a Kingsman. Galahad ought to be up soon – he probably won’t be too miffed. Well, hopefully he won’t be.” He held out his hand. “Percival. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Unwin.”

“Y–yeah,” Eggsy said quietly. His gaze landed on Harry’s sleeping face, watching as his eyes blinked open and he quickly sat up, fumbling for something in his pocket. He looked at whatever it was, cupping it in both hands before slowly relaxing. He stood up and, after a moment, gave him a slight smile. “I’m certainly impressed that you didn’t lose control of the dream, but it would be prudent to listen to what advice I am giving before running off to create snowstorms and ice cream shops.”

Eggsy couldn’t help but smile widely, relieved that Harry wasn’t upset at him. He tried asking who it was that had killed – well, “killed” him, but Percival began to speak first.

“Your flat and the safe house have not yet been debugged, so both you and Unwin will have to spend the night at the hotel,” he told Harry. “You should leave now, before Merlin brings in Amelia.”

Harry nodded, ripping the IV off of his arm and Eggsy’s and packing up the suitcase. He shoved it under the bed and held out a hand. “Shall we?”

Eggsy took the hand without hesitating and stood up beside him.


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda rushed through this chapter due to exams coming up and my next fic project taking over my life on accident.  
> Hope you enjoy the chapter nonetheless!

It was a relatively short cab ride to the hotel. Harry spent much of it doing what looked like important work on his phone, but when Eggsy leaned over to sneak a peek, he caught a glimpse of what looked remarkably similar to Candy Crush before Harry quickly pulled the phone away and pocketed it, a light flush creeping on his cheeks.

“It’s quite relaxing,” he insisted quietly.

“I’m sure it is, playing games after dreaming up entire universes,” Eggsy smirked. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “Is that how you dream all the time?”

“Well, when you have the PASIV device, it’s much easier to dream that way,” Harry replied, relieved for the change in conversation. “Sometimes, it becomes the only way to dream. Normal dreams are too… unstable for some.”

Eggsy raised a curious brow. He wanted to ask more, but the cab slowed to a stop and Harry stepped out, grabbing his umbrella and holding the door open.

“Your room should be right next to mine, so if you need anything, all you’ll have to do is knock,” Harry said as they walked to the elevator. Eggsy listened attentively for once, looking around at his surroundings. This was definitely not the type of hotel he was used to – hell, it looked less like a hotel and more like someone’s recently refurbished mansion. Even the _porter_ was better dressed than he was.

Harry caught sight of Eggsy rubbing the rim of his cap and he chuckled softly. “No one’s judging you by your attire, Eggsy. But if you still feel uncomfortable, there are some ready-made suits available in your room. Your things from home should be arriving by tomorrow.”

“That’s – that’s good,” Eggsy nodded slowly. He still felt incredibly out-of-place, standing beside the impeccably dressed secret agent. God, he could give James Bond a run for his money in terms of sexual appeal – and Eggsy should definitely stop that train of thought before he started to mentally undress Harry in the small confines of the elevator.

They exited the elevator and Harry handed Eggsy the room key before bidding him a goodnight and entering his own room. Eggsy watched him go, sighing to himself and going to his own room to plop down on the bed. He took off his jacket and stared up at the ceiling for a few moments.

The dream was so… interesting, intricate, _real_ – he was still half-convinced that if he lifted up his shirt, there would be the remnants of a stab wound. Harry’s mind had been surprisingly violent. Sure, he’d been warned beforehand, but it didn’t occur to him that it would be that extreme, that some masked man would run over to him and kill him.

The phone on the nightstand suddenly began ringing, and Eggsy sat up. “Hello?”

“Eggsy, honey? Is that you?”

“Mum?” Eggsy frowned. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine – we’re both fine,” she assured him. “We just got back to the flat. These two – well, they _said_ they were tailors – they said that they’d ‘taken care’ of Dean, whatever that implies. Now they’re asking to pack up some of your stuff. Is everything alright?”

Eggsy let out a sigh of relief. The two “tailors” must’ve been Merlin and Percival, and if they’d taken care of Dean, well, he sure wasn’t complaining. “Yeah, let them take it. I just got an… internship with one of them. The bald one.”

“Oh, _him_? He looks rather dashing, doesn’t he? The other one is quite cute too,” Michelle hummed.

“Mum,” Eggsy groaned. “Don’t talk about my bosses like that!”

“What, you haven’t looked at either of them that way?”

“Of _course_ not!” Not _them_ , at least.

Michelle let out a light laugh. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. Daisy and JB are sleeping at the moment, but I’ll wake her up if you want to talk to her?”

“No, that’s fine, I’ll call in the morning.”

“Okay,” Michelle said. She let out a sigh. “Take care, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too, mum,” Eggsy said. “Goodnight.” He hung up and laid back down, wiping his face. He’d just about fallen asleep when there was a knock on the door. He quickly scrambled up and opened the door with a wide yawn.

“Did I wake you?” Harry crossed his arms. He was wearing a simple shirt and cardigan, nothing all that special, and yet it took Eggsy a full minute to realize he’d been staring.

“Um, er… no, no, I wasn’t.” _Smooth, Eggsy, real smooth_. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “Did you… need something?”

“I wanted to see if you would like some dinner,” Harry asked. “I would say it’s being paid for by Merlin, but his accounts are surely being monitored, so it’s my treat.”

Dinner. At a fancy restaurant with fancy rich people eating fancy food. With Harry Hart, dressed in what he probably assumed was casual. And Eggsy hadn’t even washed his hands.

“Yeah, dinner sounds great,” he forced a smile. “Just – give me a few seconds, yeah?”

Harry nodded. “Of course. I’ll be in my room when you’re ready.”

The moment Harry closed the door, Eggsy rushed to the bathroom and started pulling off his clothes. There was barely any time to take a shower, so he instead quickly washed his face and forcibly combed back his hair as he looked in his closet. There were two suits hanging there in two different colors. Eggsy knew enough about suits to know how to put one on without looking like a complete idiot, but it still ended up being almost ten minutes later until he finally arrived outside of Harry’s door, carefully knocking.

Harry opened the door and gave Eggsy a friendly smile. “Ah, good. I got worried you’d fallen asleep.”

“I don’t fall asleep _that_ easily,” Eggsy chuckled as they headed to the elevator again. “Got a lot more stamina than that.”

“That’s good,” Harry hummed, and Eggsy raised a brow in surprise until Harry continued, “Stamina is an important factor when dealing with dreams. If your mind cannot handle the constantly shifting nature of the dream and the possibilities of the many realities, well…” he trailed off and stepped out the elevator doors.

“Of course it’d be something about a dream,” Eggsy mumbled to himself as he caught up.

The restaurant was down on the first floor, beside the lobby, and looked much less pretentious than Eggsy had been fearing. The maître d’ welcomed Harry and grinned even wider than he was before when he noticed Eggsy with him, seating them in a secluded corner at a nice, cozy table with a small candle lit.

It only hit Eggsy what the man may have thought they were when he sat down, and his heart pounded in his chest. “Oh, god, did he think - ”

“I think I’ll have some salad to start with,” Harry quickly interrupted him, grabbing the menu. Eggsy noticed his cheeks were much redder than usual and it made him look much younger, less handsome and veering towards adorable – and Eggsy should really _stop letting his thoughts drift like that_ cause Harry’s basically his _boss_ and you don’t have inappropriate thoughts about your boss while your knees are brushing against his under the table and –

Eggsy crossed his legs and looked at the menu. “Yeah, the, uh, salads look nice. Maybe the soup?”

Harry cleared his throat and nodded. “Yes, the soup.”

They sat in relative silence for a few moments before what must’ve been the Devil himself took over Eggsy’s body and forced him to say, “I like your cardigan.”

As Eggsy mentally kicked himself for saying something so _incredibly_ _stupid_ , Harry looked down at his clothes. “Oh, this – well, I just threw this on when we got back. It’s nothing special, really. But thank you. I’m… glad you like it… Your suit, it… fits you well.”

“Thank you,” Eggsy replied. They looked at each other from across the small table, trying to ignore the awkwardness of the entire situation and simply enjoy each other’s company.

Finally, Harry’s gaze drifted down from Eggsy’s eyes and he frowned lightly. “Your tie is slightly crooked.” And before Eggsy could even looked down to see how crooked his tie was, Harry moved the candle aside and lead forward, eyes narrowed in concentration as nimble fingers carefully adjusted the tie and transformed it into a work of art. Well, they _could_ have. Eggsy was too busy trying to remember how to think with Harry so close to him, when Harry looked up at him and his eyes suddenly drifted down to his lips and –

And Harry’s phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket. Eggsy had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from vocalizing his disappointment. God, where was the waiter with the wine when you needed him?

Harry carefully listened to the phone call, nodding along as he picked up the menu again and decided his order. A man came and stood at the end of their table and Eggsy looked up to ask him if they had anything stronger than wine, only to be faced with one of the last people he’d been expecting – Percival.

“What’re you doing here?” Eggsy groaned.

“Keep your voice down,” Percival whispered, before raising his voice. “Would you care to have a look at our wine list, sir?”

Oh shit, this was a stupid spy thing, wasn’t it? Eggsy let out a sigh and nodded, snatching the list from Percival’s hand and reading the note that’d been attached to it: _Kingsman agent coming here on undercover mission, needs Harry’s help. Order room service instead._

Great, not only did he have to order room service, but now he was going to be deprived of spending the rest of the evening with Harry. Just great. He handed the wine list back and slowly stood up.

“I’ll escort you back to your room,” Percival said quietly.

“I don’t need an escort, I can find it all on my own,” Eggsy huffed. He pushed his chair in and looked back at Harry, who was still talking on the phone. He gave Eggsy an apologetic look and mouthed, ‘Next time?’

“Yeah,” Eggsy nodded. “I’ll… see you later.” He must’ve hesitated for a few moments too long, for Percival soon grabbed him by the shoulders and pretended to take him to the bathroom, pulling him out of the restaurant through the kitchen exit and taking him back into the hotel.

“Harry isn’t in a relationship, is he?” Eggsy asked.

Percival didn’t respond, his expression stoic, but Eggsy couldn’t get rid of the feeling that he was internally smirking.


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments - really, they mean a lot. Just another short chapter because exams are ruining my life!

Eggsy was quite certain that _none_ of his previous training had been even half as demented as this so-called “simple” exercise.

“Keep moving, Eggsy,” Percival hummed. “If you stay still the robots will have a much easier time attacking you.” He casually flipped a page of his book as Eggsy quickly ran, narrowly missing a shot from the laser held by one of the badly dressed, unbelievably ridiculous “Projection-Bots”.

“I still say this is completely pointless!” Eggsy shouted back, trying to reload his gun as two of the bots ran after him. Percival, of course, was sitting _just_ outside the perimeter, clearly amused by the whole situation. Merlin was supposed to be in charge of his training, but he was busy with the new recruits and Harry was still stuck helping some agent on their own mission, leaving Percival to take the reins.

Suddenly, Eggsy felt the all-too familiar sting from the laser hitting his vest and he slowed down, groaning and catching his breath as the bots all shut down beside him. _At least they’re not fucking chasing me anymore. Stupid fucking robots._

Percival closed his book and walked over to Eggsy. “Well, I think you did much better this time – you managed to hit two of the five bots before dying.”

“Why – why do I have to do this again?” Eggsy panted. “And why do my laser guns need to be reloaded, huh? They’re – they’re lasers, shouldn’t they automatically reload or something?”

“Once you’re used to fighting in the real world using real-world logic, you can then experiment with dream logic and realities,” Percival said with a slight shrug. He pulled back his sleeve and checked his watch. “Ah, lunchtime. We’ll resume in about half an hour.”

Eggsy followed close behind as Percival made his way through long, narrow corridors (that were much more modern than Eggsy had hoped for – all his spy-fuelled fantasies as a kid involved running around in Gothic castles with secret passageways and hidden rooms that – actually, that might’ve been his ghost hunter phase instead) before leading him into a large cafeteria.

“Ah, it seems some of the recruits are taking their breaks too,” Percival noted with a hum. “Try not to interact with them too much, unless they give you the secret code. I’ll be by to collect you later.” He turned around, leaving Eggsy to absorb his words.

“Hang on…” he furrowed his brows, “Harry didn’t tell me about any – hey! Wait!” He spun around, but the man had disappeared.

“Dammit,” he mumbled to himself. He walked around awkwardly, scanning the crowd to see if Merlin or Harry were there. He found himself in what seemed to be the lunch line, standing behind some woman.

“Um, excuse me,” he tapped her shoulder, “do you know if Merlin’s here?”

“He went to check in on his computers, I think,” she shrugged, turning around. She tilted her head and raised a brow, looking him over. “You’re his intern, right? Eggy?”

“It’s Eggsy, actually,” he replied. “He’s mentioned me?”

“Yeah, he has,” she said, before adding in a whisper, “Talked about how you and I are going to be recruited for this special mission?”

“Is that the password?” Eggsy asked.

“What password?”

Eggsy blinked. “Oh god, that was his idea of a _joke_ , wasn’t it? Damn Percival, scaring the shit out of me…”

“Oh, you’ve already met Percy, huh?” she let out a light chuckle. “Yeah, he’s become a lot funnier since he met his boyfriend. You know, the guy whose job I’m here to win.” She grabbed her plate of food and held out her hand. “Roxy Morton.”

Eggsy took it before grabbing his own plate, following her to one of the secluded tables. “Isn’t he still alive, though?”

“Technically, he’s declared unfit for duty and this is a search for a temporary replacement, if he does wake up,” Roxy said. She sat down and carefully unfolded her napkin as she spoke, hands moving swiftly and nimbly. “But I’m pretty sure he’ll wake up. Who knows what his mental state will be, though.”

“What do you mean?” Eggsy asked, swallowing down a bite of his sandwich. “Isn’t he just in a coma?”

Roxy shook her head. “Not an ordinary one. Merlin and I were discussing it – his mind is in Limbo. It’s just raw subconscious down there with no attachment to reality, and since he went down there involuntarily, he won’t even know he’s dreaming. His mind could create some horrible things down there for him – or wonderful things. Wonderful enough that he won’t want to wake up.”

“Wow, that’s... a bit terrifying,” Eggsy said. “And that happened to Percival’s boyfriend, right?” He took another bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully, wondering how it would feel knowing someone you care about was so close, but so far away. “It sounds like a soppy love movie, doesn’t it?”

Roxy shrugged. “A bit, I guess.”

Eggsy considered asking her why she and Percival seemed so close, but before he could say anything, Merlin was marching over to him. “Eggsy, lunch break is over. Time to get back to work.”

“What?” Eggsy scoffed. “It’s been like, ten minutes! I was supposed to have half an hour!”

“I need you to set up the exam room for the new recruits,” Merlin crossed his arms. “You _are_ my intern, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but – ”

“Then get up and get to work.”

Eggsy wanted to argue and say that he’d just spent over two hours being shot at by cheap robot imitations of Hugo Weaving from The Matrix, but Merlin’s persistent glare, combined with the sudden silence of the entire cafeteria as they all collectively stared at him caused him to grumble softly and stand up to throw his trash away.

“See you later, Eggsy,” Roxy hummed, watching him go. Eggsy waved back half-heartedly as Merlin walked him out, while some loudmouthed, obnoxious git started laughing about the whole stupid scene.

“What was all of that for?” Eggsy huffed once they were safely out of earshot.

“Arthur is getting suspicious as to why I’m not using you as an intern,” Merlin said. “The whole thing is already set up, just stay there a few moments and pretend as though you’re doing something important. Then you can go back to your training.”

Eggsy nodded, hesitating a moment. “Is, uh, is Harry back yet?” he asked hopefully. When Merlin did not even dignify his question with a response, he sighed and stared down at the floor. _He’ll be back soon. Probably… Hopefully._

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the Bastille song. Perfect for Inception.


End file.
